


Leave Me a Mess

by orphan_account



Series: The James/Mike Universe [2]
Category: Sorted (Website) RPF
Genre: (Obviously), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Face-Fucking, Fluffy Ending, Hand & Finger Kink, Jealousy, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rimming, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 19:49:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16271138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Upon request, this is the story of how Mike finally got James to have sex with him in the Sorted studio.





	Leave Me a Mess

It’s 7pm, and Mike is bored.

James has barely paid attention to him all day, and they haven’t done anything more sexual that a kiss on the cheek for at least four days. It’s got to the point where Mike is taking his flirting energy out on other people since James keeps brushing him off, and he knows he was over the top today (to the point where he actually pinched Ben on the arse, mostly to get a rise out of James, though seeing his best friend blush and splutter was a nice bonus) but he can’t help it – he’s a flirt by nature. Everyone had been thrilled when he and James announced they were together because Mike finally had an outlet for his charm (not that James hadn’t been his outlet before, but he could be more open about it now they’d both admitted their attraction), so this reversion to Mike flirting with _everyone_ has been exhausting for the whole crew.

He blames James.

He’s been in the studio since 10 this morning, filming and editing and generally doing his job (as well as fucking around and _not_ doing his job), and had been planning to go home at five like usual until James mentioned he was staying back. Stupidly, Mike had said he’d stay back too – he had work to do, anyway, and he wanted to spend time with James, maybe figure out what was bugging him.

He should have realised that James testing recipes meant he’d be focused on cooking and not on Mike. Which would be fine were it not for the fact that Mike actually didn’t have as much work to get done as he’d thought, so now he’s just watching random YouTube videos while he waits for James to finish up, which doesn’t look like it’s going to happen anytime soon.

“Jaaaaames,” he whines, swivelling back and forth in his desk chair, “when are you gonna be done?”

James doesn’t answer; he’s writing something down, probably making a note on his existing recipe or jotting down a new idea for something else. Mike whines at him again, and James ignores him again. Eventually, when he realises Mike isn’t going to shut up, he responds.

“You’re more than welcome to go home if you’re bored.”

His voice is impassive – infuriatingly so. Mike pouts.

“I’m not bored, I just want you to pay attention to me.”

“Well, prepare to be disappointed. I’m trying to focus.”

“ _I’m trying to focus_ ,” Mike mocks under his breath as he makes his way over to the cooking area, leaning on the counter to watch what James is doing. The man doesn’t look at him, doesn’t do anything to acknowledge his presence, and Mike’s immediate instinct is to fix that. He spies a dish that’s got a thick steak in it, marinating in what looks like red wine and herbs. Pulling it towards himself slightly, just enough that the liquid inside sloshes without quite spilling, he then waits for his boyfriend’s reaction.

“Stop it,” James mutters without looking up, pulling the dish back towards himself and away from Mike’s devious hands. Mike shuffles down the bench to follow it, and James moves it again. Mike tries to find a smile on his boyfriend’s face hidden by his ducked head, but there isn’t one, and his heart sinks – James is actually pissed. _Shit_.  

“Babe, what’s going on? You’ve been grumpy all day, have I pissed you off?”

James snorts derisively. “Yes, you have,” he snaps, not looking up as he pulls the steak from the dish and dumps it on an oven tray with a wet slap. “You do realise that it’s not a requirement for you to flirt with _every single person_ in the studio, right? Like, you could absolutely just _not_ do that?”

It’s a little confronting how snide James sounds, how harshly he slams the door after throwing the steak in the oven, and now Mike’s properly worried. James is sarcastic in general – it’s part of the reason everyone loves him – but this isn’t just sarcastic, this is…genuinely upset.

He carries on: “I mean, if you’re not into me anymore, that’s fine, but _tell me_. Don’t go around trying to get into the pants of everyone we work with just to show you’re done with me.”

Mike can’t really believe what he’s hearing. He gapes, silent for a moment until he can formulate an actual sentence that isn’t just an incredulous, “what?”

“Where the hell has this come from? James, I don’t mean to sound crass, but why would I have spent the last four months with you if I wasn’t still into you?”

“Exactly, Mike. We’ve been dating for _four months_. That’s not exactly a lifetime, is it? In fact, it’s exactly the kind of timeframe in which you could change your mind and realise that you’re not as interested in me as you’d originally thought.”

His voice is level, but he’s not making eye contact, and Mike knows him well enough to know he’s trying to keep it together. He can’t even articulate an appropriate response – how could James _possibly_ imagine that Mike doesn’t like him anymore? He’d never thought that James would be the one feeling insecure about their relationship. _Mike_ is the commitment-phobe, the one who thinks he’s not good enough and jumps ship before he can get himself hurt, the one who leaves before –

Okay, maybe he _can_ see how James is insecure: he’s never explained these things, so all James sees is Mike hopping from partner to partner supposedly without a care, barely bothering to get to know someone before dropping them. Huh.

“James,” he says carefully, “I’ve not changed my mind. At all. And I realise it might seem like I usually do, but here’s the thing: I’m _so_ insecure.” He holds a hand up to stop James, who’s just opened his mouth to counter him. “I’m so insecure that I end relationships before they’ve even begun to save myself the pain, because I’m convinced I’m not good enough. I’m convinced that I’m going to get dumped, so I dump them first, and I realise that that might look like I’m a player, whereas in reality I’m…not,” he asserts weakly. “The only thing that’s stopped me from doing that with you is the fact that I _cannot_ fuck up what we have, because you’re amazing. Even my shit self-esteem understands that to lose you would be the biggest mistake I could make.”

He’s already certain that James is going to roll his eyes, tell him to get fucked and dump him on the spot, is already mentally cataloguing all the stuff of his he’ll need to collect from James’ flat. So he starts a little when, after a moment, James mutters, “You shouldn’t be insecure.”

Mike shakes his head in confusion.

“You’re amazing, Mike,” James continues, sounding more sure than he had before. “I always assumed you didn’t do relationships because you realised that you were too good for the people you dated, but I guess you’re just an idiot who genuinely doesn’t understand how great you are.”

“I feel like I should be insulted,” Mike replies, smiling tentatively. James smiles back. “I’m really sorry, love. I didn’t even think about the fact that you might be insecure in a relationship with a serial dater, who as far as you know gets bored easily. James, I could _never_ get bored with you.”

James’ shoulders visibly relax with relief. “So you’re still interested in me?”

“Unfathomably so,” Mike answers, beaming.

“And you’ve spent all day flirting with everyone but me because…”

“Because _you_ have barely looked me in the eye all week, which _really_ throws my charm off,” Mike jokes. He rounds the bench to pull James into a hug, tucking his head into his chest, breathing him in. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise how upset you were, love. I’m an idiot.”

He feels James shake his head, his beard scrubbing against his own hair.

“ _I’m_ an idiot,” he mumbles, his chest rumbling under Mike’s ear, “I wasn’t being fair to you at all. I freaked out and decided you were done with us without any evidence at all. Buuuut,” he goes on, hands on Mike’s shoulders so he can hold him at arm’s distance, catching his eye, “don’t you ever go touching Ben’s bum again unless you want to see me properly upset.”

Mike grins, thrilled that James is at ease again. “If I do it again, will you punish me?”

He knows the wink he throws James’ way is disgustingly corny, but it makes James laugh so it doesn’t matter.

“I ought to punish you anyway for that ridiculous display today,” he muses, thumb rubbing against Mike’s collarbone. Mike hums happily, relieved that they’ve sorted things out, pulling James close again so he can hug him properly. He’s missed James’ touch the past few days – if the way James holds him tightly is anything to go by, the other man has missed it too.

“Is there any of that wine left?” Mike asks hopefully, a little muffled where his mouth presses against James’ shoulder. They break apart and James digs out some glasses and a bottle – a new one, Mike notes, but he’s not going to comment. James passes a glass over, grabbing his own to clink against it, and they smile at each other as they each take a sip. James’ music plays softly in the background, and the sounds of the street outside are muted by the walls and the late hour. Besides this, it’s quiet. Mike revels in James’ gentle gaze, the serene calm that radiates from him now that the tension has been soothed.

Not for the first time, he thinks about how much happier he is with James, how much the man has lifted up every part of his life. Things like coming to work, cooking dinner, making his bed – they’re all so much more fun knowing that he’s doing a lot of these things _for James_. It had scared him, when he’d first realised, and honestly it still does a little. As the man himself had said, four months isn’t exactly a lifetime; there’s still every chance that James will come to his senses and realise what a twat Mike is, dump his arse and get with someone who genuinely deserves him. Leave Mike to return to his string of unfulfilling fucks, a stream of men and women who wouldn’t be caught dead with him in the daylight, people who he’d barely be bothered to change his sheets for, let alone _actively want_ to change them – he loves when James comments on his fresh bed linen.

He understands how genuinely fucked he’d be if James left him, because already James is integral. James is the reason he does most things; the man makes him excited to _come to work_ , for fuck’s sake, he’s head-over-heels for him. It’s a lot to say out loud, and he doesn’t even know if he could _try_ to explain it, so Mike tries to put the thoughts from his mind. He sets his glass on the counter, licking the wine from his lips before pulling James in by his shirt collar for a kiss.

James hums happily, putting his own glass down to wrap his arms around Mike’s waist and pull him close. It’s a position they’ve perfected over the past few months since they first got together, one they now fall into easily, and it amazes Mike that he was ever able to exist in a world where this wasn’t his default position. James tastes like wine and garlic and Mike chases the flavour, grinning into the kiss when his boyfriend presses him up against the bench. It’s innocent to begin with, but when Mike breaks away from James’ mouth and starts kissing down his neck James stops him with a hand on his chest, taking a step back.

“There’s steak in the oven,” he states, breathing hard.

Mike replies succinctly: “You should fuck me.”

“There’s a steak in the oven,” James repeats, “we can’t leave yet.”

“I never said anything about leaving.” Mike raises his eyebrows, smirking deviously at the man in front of him. James rolls his eyes, shaking his head even as a flush spreads across his cheeks.

“Babe, how many times do I have to tell you we’re not fucking in the studio?” He straightens up his shirt (he never wears the chef’s jacket unless it’s for a video, much to Mike’s dismay – those buttons are just so temptingly _poppable_ ) and goes to check on the oven, pretending not to notice the exaggerated pout Mike throws his way. He bends down to look through the door, dropping a hip in a way that’s absolutely _not_ accidental, and Mike groans in frustration.

“Besides, I believe we both agreed that you deserve a punishment.”

He says it so nonchalantly, still gazing into the oven, that Mike doesn’t quite register it seriously at first. It’s only when James straightens up enough for him to see the smirk plastered on his face that he realises he’s serious.

Mike’s pulse spikes at the thought.

“What kind of punishment?” He asks, trying not to sound too eager, trying to emulate the nonchalance of the man in front of him. He fails.

James grins, turning the oven down a little then folding his arms, contemplating.

“It’s been a while since we had sex.”

Mike resists the urge to rolls his eyes and respond, “Duh.”

“In fact, it’s been a while since I got off at all.” James leans back with his arms on the edge of the counter (making them look absolutely divine) and Mike can’t stop his eyes from trailing down his front, stopping at his crotch. He hears James huff a laugh.

“You want to watch?”

Mike’s mouth is dry. It’s rare that James’ voice gets that gravelly quality to it – they’re still early on in the relationship, sex is more of a fun, laughy-joking affair than anything serious. Usually they’re both giggling, smiling, playing around. It’s something Mike really enjoys about sex with James, because most other people he’s had sex with have tried to make it into something super-serious, something intense and deeply meaningful when sometimes it’s just not. Mike likes that James is still his sarcastic self even when he’s right on the edge of orgasm, likes that he himself can make jokes or fool around and not be worried that James will walk out.

That being said, he _loves_ this deep growl, the intense gaze his boyfriend pins him with. He can’t help but shiver, enjoying the thick feeling settling in his groin, that sensation of being so turned on it’s almost sickening. His knees weaken as James licks his lip, smirking at how debauched Mike already looks with just a sentence. James starts unbuckling his belt, never taking his eyes off his boyfriend, and Mike feels like he’s been punched in the gut when James pulls out his dick and it’s already hard. He’s frozen in place, mouth watering a little while James spits in his hands and starts to play with his foreskin, pulling it over the head of his dick and back, his long fingers toying around the shaft – Mike can’t stop staring. Even when he tries to look away, his eyes are drawn back to James’ arms, how tense his muscles are, how absolutely mouth-watering he looks.

He takes a step forward, reaches a hand out, and James shakes his head.

“I said _watch_ ,” he says, a little breathless but his voice is still gruff. Mike gulps but nods, putting his hand back down. He doesn’t go for his own dick, because without even being told he knows that’s not what James wants; it is a punishment, after all. James gets back to it, and Mike watches, and it’s unbelievably sexy. James jerks himself off like he’s got all the time in the world, running his hand up and down his cock slowly, leisurely, occasionally letting go to tug at his balls. Sometimes he tries to keep himself quiet but not tonight; tonight he’s letting out these soft little noises, not quite moans but they’re just as intoxicating. He keeps catching his breath when his thumb traces over the head of his cock, and every so often he lets out these long, drawn-out sighs that make Mike’s toes curl. Mike grips the counter behind him hard to keep his hands from his cock, bites his lip to stop himself begging James to let him suck him off.

It gets harder to keep in the noises, the ones that threaten to bubble up as a response to the ones James is making. James is moving more, too, his hips slowly bucking into his hand like he can’t hold it back, his body moving sinuously the way it does when he’s buried deep inside Mike. He’s moaning freely now, clearly aware of the effect it’s having and milking it, and Mike finally gives in after a particularly loud, keening groan that’s so guttural it’s a wonder it could come from someone as soft-spoken as James. When he finally grabs his dick to readjust himself in his trousers it’s electric – he hadn’t realised he was rock hard, hadn’t really thought about his own cock at all. He emits a groan of his own and it’s absolutely filthy, and finally James relents and beckons him over with a nod of his head.

Mike’s on his knees in an instant, hands on James’ hips so he can mouth at his balls first, revelling in the happy little moan James makes. Eventually he noses his way up to his cock, working in soft little licks and teasing his boyfriend until the ginger grabs his hair and angles his cock into his mouth. Mike takes James’ cock right to the back of his throat straight away – he’s got better at that. When they first got together he’d been out of practice, having not been with a guy for a while, but since being with James he’s had more than enough time to perfect the technique again. Now he sucks James’ cock down easily, falling into the now-familiar rhythm, grinning as much as he can when James puts his hand on Mike’s cheek to feel his dick move against the skin there.

Eventually Mike pulls off a bit, working just the tip with his tongue and lapping up the precum. James can’t seem to choose between touching his own cock and touching Mike’s face, sweeping his hand under Mike’s chin and trailing it up over his dick, then back across his boyfriend’s cheek. He can’t seem to stop _moving_ either, and not just his hand – his whole body is constantly in motion, hips bucking and head turning, his chest heaving, shoulders writhing like he’s trying to get away and get closer all at once. Mike mouths at his hand, rubbing his face against it then grabbing his wrist to lick his fingers properly, filthily. He then kisses his way back up his cock and swallows it back down, drooling a little around its thickness. James is losing his mind above him, constantly muttering praise and adulation, unsure whether to grab Mike’s hair or his shoulder, or his own hair, or the bench behind him. He can’t stop his hips moving, keeps whispering little apologies when he fucks into Mike’s mouth accidentally until Mike pulls off, strings of spit coating his mouth and James’ cock, connecting them, and says, “You can keep going. Fuck my mouth, it feels nice.”

James can’t keep his hips from stuttering at that. Mike’s voice sounds so raw, so _fucked_ , and his mouth and chin are covered in spit and precome. His hair is mussed up from where James has been grabbing it, too, and his cheeks are red – he looks a _mess_.

James is so in love with him.

He guides himself back into Mike’s mouth and starts moving his hips slowly, letting his boyfriend get comfortable with the movement, but soon enough Mike’s digging his fingers into his bum, letting him know he can go faster. James still keeps his thrusts shallow at first, but soon he’s fucking deep into Mike’s throat, moaning happily at the noises Mike’s making. He’s gagging every so often, but he never lets James pull back, so James just keeps thrusting his hips smoothly. Soon he’s on the edge, his grip tight in Mike’s hair, and without even pulling off Mike catches his eye, letting him know to come in his mouth – at this point, James probably couldn’t stop himself if he tried.

The noise that escapes him when his orgasm hits is nothing short of euphoric, this punched-out, filthy sound that isn’t even coherent enough to be a moan. After the tension of the past few days, the inability to even get himself off, it feels like he’s completely emptied by the orgasm, like every muscle in his body has finally relaxed. He sags against the bench, twitching every so often as Mike sucks at his over-sensitive dick, kind of cleaning him off but also getting him dirty all over again. Eventually, Mike stands up, shaking his legs out a little to get blood flowing into them again, and James leans in for a kiss. Mike’s face is disgusting – he’s covered in spit and come, strands of saliva dripping down his chin and onto his shirt (which is still on, what a travesty), and it all gets into James’ beard but he doesn’t give a fuck. He loves tasting himself in his boyfriend’s mouth, licking up every trace of his own come; it’s something Mike used to make fun of him for (“Now I know how far your narcissism really goes, you even like eating your own jizz”) but it’s not as if the blonde ever complains. In fact, he sighs happily into James’ mouth, grinning with the blissed-out ecstasy he always feels after getting James off.

They finally pull apart when James starts rubbing Mike’s crotch. Mike whines, leaning his forehead against James’ and breathing heavily. James kisses his neck right under his ear, knowing how it drives him crazy.

“You should fuck me,” Mike breathes.

James couldn’t agree more.

He spins Mike around so he’s facing away, then flips their positions, pressing Mike front-first against the bench. He pulls his shirt off first (a little awkwardly, granted) and licks down his neck, grinding into his arse. His own trousers are unbuttoned, his still-sensitive dick singing at the friction even as he’s already getting hard again, and he works on getting Mike’s jeans undone – made more difficult by the way the man’s wiggling his hips and grinding back against him. Eventually he gets there, and kisses his way down Mike’s back while getting to his knees, pulling his jeans down and biting gently at Mike’s soft arse. The blond squirms, then gasps in surprise when James pulls his cheeks apart and drags his tongue over his hole. He grips the counter hard and pushes back into James’ face, shuddering as his tongue loosens him up, hissing in pleasure when fingernails dig hard into his thighs.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Mike breathes, eyes clenched against how fucking _good_ he feels. James hums, tongue swiping up and down, and Mike swears again. He unclenches a hand from the bench and goes to touch his cock but James is on him in an instant, grabbing his wrist and forcing his hand back to where it was. Every nerve in Mike’s body fizzes – he fucking _loves_ when James pushes him around – and he moans wantonly. James pulls away and stands up, pressing a kiss to Mike’s shoulder blade before walking away. Mike whines desperately after him, but James is back seconds later, and he places a little bottle of lube and a condom on the counter next to Mike. The blond laughs, spinning around to pull James into a kiss, and he mutters against his lips, “Always so prepared.”

“Ben’s taught me well,” he chuckles, nipping his boyfriend’s lower lip. He laughs again at the face Mike makes – it’s torn between ‘why are you imagining Ben when we’re having sex’ and ‘wow, it’s really hot to imagine Ben when we’re having sex.’ James kisses him again, then spins him back around and grabs the lube.

It doesn’t take long to get him loose, and soon Mike’s pushing back into James’ three fingers and begging him to get on with it. James relents, grabbing the condom packet and holding it up to Mike’s mouth, grinning when he gets his teeth around the edge so James can rip it open. James rolls the condom on one-handed, his other hand still working Mike open, revelling in the way Mike keens when he brushes his prostate. He does it a few more times, watching the way his boyfriend’s back muscles bunch and release, the way he tries to pull away and push back at the same time, before pulling his hand out and working the leftover lube onto his cock. He drags his dick up and down Mike’s crack a few times until the man groans and mutters, “Get on with it,” then he finally lines himself up and pushes in.

It always shocks him how hot and tight Mike is, feeling especially so after his recent orgasm. He sinks in slowly – he pretends it’s to give Mike time to adjust, but in reality it’s to tease him, to make him huff and push his arse back, speed up the process. James grips his hips hard (aware that one hand is still covered in lube, but it’s never stopped them before) and fucks into Mike slowly, rolling his hips in that teasing way his boyfriend both hates and loves. Eventually they get into a rhythm, Mike using the bench to push himself back against James, while James pulls Mike back into him by his hips, the slap of skin on skin loud over James’ music which still plays quietly in the background. The noise is punctuated by Mike making these little punched-out sighs every time James thrusts into him, and by James, who can’t seem to stop groaning at how good Mike feels around him.

“Shit,” he whispers, getting one hand on Mike’s shoulder so he can change the angle and hit that spot that makes Mike clench around him, “you feel so fucking good, babe.”

Mike opens his mouth to respond but all that comes out is a particularly eloquent, “Huuuhhhhhh.” James bites his lip and fucks in harder, grabbing Mike’s cock with his free hand and letting the movement of Mike’s hips do the work of jerking him off. The noises coming from Mike are getting more and more frantic, loud in the empty studio, and James bites his neck hard. He feels Mike tense and starts properly moving his hand, knowing he’s about to come.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Mike moans, the combination of pleasure from his orgasm and pain from James’ teeth lighting his body on fire. His moan peters off to these desperate, keening whimpers, and then James bites down harder when his own orgasm hits. He thrusts in a few more times, finally stilling with their bodies pressed fully together. Eventually he relaxes his jaw, apologising to Mike for getting carried away.

“Don’t apologise,” Mike says, leaning back into James’ chest. “It felt fucking fantastic.”

James smiles and presses a kiss into his hair, enjoying the moment before finally pulling out. Mike sighs at the sudden emptiness, slumping against the counter a fucked-out wreck (avoiding his own jizz, obviously) and listening to James tying off the condom and chucking it in a bin. When James comes back over he situates himself in the corner of the benchtop, pulling Mike back into his chest and tucking his head on his shoulder. He plays with the sparse hair on Mike’s stomach and circles his fingers over his skin, enjoying the contented little sighs Mike’s letting out.

“You know,” Mike muses, grabbing one of James’ hands and playing with his fingers gently, “you’re not very good at doling out punishments.”

James tucks his head into Mike’s skin and laughs, feeling his boyfriend shudder against him.

“Hey, I tried for a bit,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to the bite mark on Mike’s neck (which still shows the indents of his own teeth, oops) to make him moan. “Not my fault I can’t resist you.”

Mike hums happily. He realises when James’ fingers trail over his hip that his trousers are still half-down and his cock is still fully out, and he can feel that James’ jeans are still undone against his bare arse. It should be awkward, but it’s definitely not, and not for the first time Mike marvels that this is his life – that James is his boyfriend.

“I love you.”

His voice is clear but his heart is fucking pounding. He’s never said that before – neither of them have – and especially after the turmoil of this week, he’s terrified that it was a wrong move. It worsens when James’ hand stills and flattens on his stomach. He can feel his fingers clench a little.

James spins him around to face him, and Mike’s fears are instantly alleviated when he sees the cheesy grin on his boyfriend’s face. James pulls him into a kiss, one that’s deep and gentle at the same time, and they stay like that for a long time.

“I love you,” James says against his lips when they finally come up for air. They grin like idiots, half-naked in an empty studio, both so relieved to have finally sorted things out.

“I love you,” Mike says again, peppering kisses on James’ lips. He tightens his grip on James’ shoulders when the man tries to pull back, not letting him get away, laughing as his boyfriend squirms. “I love you,” he says between each peck, not stopping until James relents and kisses him back, finally silencing him by pulling him into a proper kiss again.

They pull away quickly when, at the same time, they both smell burning.

“Fuck,” James laughs. “I _knew_ the steak would burn.”

It takes them a long time to get dressed and get home – the steak actually isn’t burnt, it’s right on the edge, so they eat it while finishing off their wine. It’s well-done, certainly, but still nice. They’re so relaxed when it comes time to leave that Mike nearly forgets to clean his jizz off the counter., and when they finally do get back to James’ flat (which is basically home for Mike now, even after such a short time), they don’t bother to shower, instead just curling up in bed fully-clothed. They lie facing each other, James running a hand through Mike’s hair.

“I really love you,” he mumbles, heart still racing as if there’s any chance Mike doesn’t feel the same way. Mike grins, repeating James’ own words from four months ago:

“Good, because I’m fucking crazy about you.”

 

* * *

 

They’re late to work the next day, obviously. Barry grins when he sees them walk into the studio hand-in-hand and wolf-whistles, which starts the whole team cheering in relief. James blushes deeply while Mike grips his hand tighter, giving a royal wave and doing his best impression of the Queen’s impassive expression. Eventually everyone quiets down, and Barry pats them both on the shoulders before going back to his computer. Ben gives them a bright smile from the cooking area and now it’s Mike’s turn to blush – Ben’s chopping up vegetables right where Mike got the life fucked out of him last night. He just hopes their cleaning spray is as effective as it claims.

They’re almost convinced they got away with it, until Ben goes to chuck some packaging away. He stares into the bin for a solid minute, then turns towards the two men. He catches Mike’s eye, who immediately looks away, then James’, who holds his gaze even as his blush returns. Ben stares for a few more seconds, before he shrugs and smiles.

“Good to know you use large condoms, James,” he says, far louder than is necessary. He winks, going back to his chopping as everyone else’s heads turn back around and the furore starts again.

**Author's Note:**

> I intended to feature James spilling wine all over his arm and Mike licking it off (yes, I have an arm thing, and yes, I'm ashamed) which I guess didn't happen - maybe another time. I'm also not very good at writing people talking out their relationship issues, so hopefully it's not too jarring. Also, in my mind James and Mike are both pretty into Ben, which is why he keeps popping up in these fics.
> 
> Also fun fact, I'm fully planning for my next fic to be the emergency room meet-cute of Mike and Ben, so prepare for that (if it ever comes). You can follow my tumblr [here](https://hobotang.tumblr.com/), I only really post links to these fics on there, but if you want to drop me a fic request then you can.
> 
> Title is a slightly altered lyric from Miss the Misery by Halestorm.


End file.
